As time passes, my journey through grief transforms me. I discover I am not the same. My writing progresses with me though the changing seasons. ​​(Visit my Pathways page for earlier grief journey writings.)

What if no one knows or remembers I was a mother—and a darn good mother, too! What if it fades into the shadows of the past? What if my daughter is forgotten? That’s really what’s at stake on Mother’s Day. I want my daughter, and the fact that I was her mother, to be remembered.

As the years pass, the importance of remembrance grows. Life marches on, and the sands of time will begin to bury her memory a little deeper year by year. Already, I meet people who never knew her, and I struggle to give her life context. For all my talk of Jeanette this and Jeanette that, and all the photographs I could show, she’s no more than a two-dimensional sketch to someone who never knew her. But, to me, she was so much more than I can possibly tell. How I wish you could have known her!

How can I describe her? How can I explain the ways she made the world a better place, and how her legacy lives on in those who knew her? Remembering me on Mother’s Day is to acknowledge my daughter’s life and her significance. I want her existence to be acknowledged. I want her contribution to this world to be remembered. And, my contribution as her mother.

Mother’s Day is one of the hardest days for a mother with a child in heaven, although every day has its challenges. Every day I get out of bed and keep moving forward is a feat of courage and fortitude. There's a saying. You don't know how strong you are until strong is the only choice you have. That's me. Every. Day. Mother's Day requires extra strength. Mothers with a child in heaven are a special kind of woman. Remember them on Mother's Day. ​Remember my daughter. She lived. She died. Her time on this earth was limited, but what a blessing she was while she was here! And, I had the privilege of being her mother. Please don’t forget.